


Fanfic: The Meaning of Faith

by vega_voices



Series: The Meaning of Faith [1]
Category: In Plain Sight, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She stares at the page, slightly yellowed with age, and her manicured fingers trail over the words. She’d have run. Avalon would have taken them and offered them passage back to Daniel’s realm. His brother had been a servant in the king’s court. They’d have been protected. They should have run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fanfic: The Meaning of Faith

**Series:** The Meaning of Faith  
 **Prologue:** Shattering Illusions  
 **Fandom:** Once Upon a Time; In Plain Sight  
 **Author:** [](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/)**vegawriters**   
**Pairing:** Multiple.  
 **Rating:** Mature  
 **Timeframe/Spoilers:** Up through season 2 of OUAT/Post-series for Marshall in In Plain Sight.

_This body holding me_  
reminds me of my own mortality.  
Embrace this moment.  
Remember, we are eternal,  
this pain is an illusion.  
Tool – Parabola 

The memories are cobwebs, clinging to her like spider silk, brushing past at the most inconvenient times. At a city council meeting, late night in Graham’s bed, alone in her study while reading. All it takes is for her to tuck a lock of her short hair behind her ear and she is in Daniel’s room behind the stable, stretched out on his bed, talking about the future while his hopeful hand hovered above the seed of life they’d begun together. Not twenty-four hours later she’d cradled his lifeless body while her mother stood over them.

But the web is strongest when Henry shouts how she isn’t his real mom. It is only another reminder of a choice forced upon her; Regina had taken the tea left for her and felt the child evacuate her body. King Leopold was making no demands on her virginity, but Regina had known her mother would find a way to rig that too should it be needed. So now, when her child shouts at her, accusing her of the very things she is in fact guilty of, there is a quiver in ovaries that will never again be used for their purpose. Would she have been capable of loving the King if she’d never known Snow had revealed the love for Daniel? Would she have come to walk next to Leopold, commiserating in mutual loss? Would there have been a sibling for Snow? A little girl with rose red hair to counteract her older sister’s raven locks? Would she have been able to place all blame with her mother and move on? In truth, Leopold had been as sad as she.

Now, alone in a house that is as empty as her castle and colder than the crypt where her father’s body rests, Regina’s sobs only bind the cobwebs tighter and tighter around her heart. Daniel is gone. The hopes she clung to while praying for just one moment more have dissolved into the dust of the man she loved. Even under the anger and the magic and the manipulation, she loved once. She loved a man who reached out for her all the while helping her up onto horses. They’d played tag across meadows and made love on soft blankets with only the stars to witness. Her house is a tomb she created, full of items she once would have dismissed as useless. No comfortable couches, no cozy blankets. Here, everything is as her mother would have dictated; fancy candlesticks, shining silver bowls, the fanciest of clothing. Only her apple basket and one woven wrap serve as a reminder of the woman she wanted to be.

She walks the house, tears streaming, unheeded, down her cheeks. Her only concession to her emotions is the paper towel she keeps in her hand to blow her nose. She’s cried on Henry’s bed, sat in the chair in her room and stared into nothing, and now stands at the back room to the garage. It is locked tight, the combination lock never once turned. Shaking hands twist the metal left and right and at the click, she pulls clutch free and pushes the door open.

Twenty-eight years of dust have gathered in the nearly vacant room. In the center is a trunk, strapped with leather, the hinges slightly corroded with dust and age and humidity. Regina walks over and kneels down, pushing the top of the chest open. A strap snaps and she has to hold the lid lest it crash down on her. Inside are a few things she has been unable to touch in all this time. A woven blanket from Daniel’s home kingdom, dyed with the famous blue of Avalon. A pouch of his liniments used on the horses. A locket with her picture. His cloak. His journal. Only when she pulls the journal and blanket from the trunk does she realize she’s wandered out into the garage barefoot and the chill of the cold cement floor has seeped into her bones. When her hand releases the lid, it crashes back down and dust flies everywhere, irritating her already swollen sinuses. She sneezes, once and then twice and two minutes later she is still sneezing and crying. The mucus drains thickly down her throat and she coughs for a moment to release it.

When was the last time she cried over Daniel?

Shaking feet carry her back to the house and Regina makes her way to the study. She’d poured a glass of red wine when she came home and left it untasted so it still waits, next to those damned apples. Once, she and Daniel had climbed that apple tree and she’d stretched out on a low branch while he sat above her and read poetry from distant lands. Now, she sits in front of the dying fire and, ignoring the dust, tucks the soft wool blanket around her legs. Daniel’s kingdom was known for its spun wool. So much so that the sisters of Avalon had often traded dyes for the cloth.

What _would_ Viviane and Morgaine think of her? Of what she allowed herself to become?

Shaking hands open the journal and she stares down at the page before her. Daniel’s handwriting had been so clear and crisp.  
 _  
I want to ask Regina to marry me. Would she be willing to be the wife of a stable boy? Would she be willing to leave behind the world of her mother? My heart says yes, but she is scared. She wants nothing more than to please. What would happen if we ran away?_

She stares at the page, slightly yellowed with age, and her manicured fingers trail over the words. She’d have run. Avalon would have taken them and offered them passage back to Daniel’s realm. His brother had been a servant in the king’s court. They’d have been protected. They should have run.

_To Be Continued ..._


End file.
